


Pancakes Without Bacon

by Ahigheroctave



Series: Pancakes without Bacon universe [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-12
Updated: 2010-05-12
Packaged: 2017-11-17 13:59:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ahigheroctave/pseuds/Ahigheroctave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She can't eat bacon, and she never wants to play Super Mario again, but she'd rather not go home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pancakes Without Bacon

Ella wakes her up at the crack of dawn. In a fit of pregnancy hormones and a case of mistaken identity (she thought it was Puck, who often crawls into her bed after midnight to beg for sex), she almost gives her several choice words. Fortunately, she glances back just at the right moment and simply smiles, “Hey sweetie, bad dream?”   
  
She shakes her black bed head at her, and whispers, “It’s Mothers Day. Noah and I usually get up early and make pancakes, but since he can’t really cook, I thought I’d ask you.” Ella is under the mistaken idea that Quinn is her new big sister, and she can’t fight find the heart to break it to her that no-one in their right mind would ever marry Puck. “I figure maybe this year they won’t come out all burnt.” Something tugs a heartstring, and Quinn crawls out of bed in her nightgown.   
  
Ella smiles, putting her hands on Quinn’s growing stomach, “Hello baby, today is Mother’s Day. It’s okay that you didn’t buy anything yet though, since you haven’t been born.” Quinn bites her lip, and counts to ten. She promised herself she’d get through today without crying.   
  
As they pad downstairs, Ella holds her hand and tells her about the boy in her class who she _doesn’t_ have a crush on. He is _so annoying_ and she wishes Noah would stop teasing her about him. This is about the hundredth or so time she’s heard this, but she nods along and smiles inwardly to herself. Ella’s first crush, someday she’ll remember it and long for when it was all so simple.   
  
Ella sits at the table in front of a mixing bowl and Quinn brings her ingredients from various cabinets, even though her feet hurt. She gets eggshells in the batter and flour in her dark hair, but Quinn can’t help but grin at the sight of her stirring furiously. “Do you think she’d like the blueberries or the chocolate chips better?” She asks, still concentrating. “I know she’s on that diet, actually, so maybe we should use the bananas, because she’s been eating them for breakfast every morning?” She looks up at the blond expectantly, laying the wooden spoon on the bowl’s rim.   
  
“Use the chocolate chips, and lots of them,” Quinn grins and Ella smirks back. No woman is really going to turn down an excuse to eat unhealthily, especially not one as good as your 9-year-old making you Mother’s Day pancakes. She lets her fingers rest on her stomach for just a few seconds before going to get the bacon she bought earlier this week out of the freezer.   
  
“I like the chocolate chips better anyways,” Ella babbles, continuing her mixing. “I always get chocolate chip pancakes when we got to iHop. Noah gets the waffles, you know? Waffles are gross though! They always taste frozen, like the French toast sticks at school. And no one in their right mind would eat those, you know?” Quinn puts four strips of bacon in the pan and listens as she continues to rant. “Or anything with turkey in it. Last week they made this disgusting thing, and I didn't bring my lunch because we were supposed to have chicken nuggets. It was turkey that was like a month old, I swear, and it was mixed with those weird brown, whole grain mashed potatoes they give us. Which I really don’t get because mashed potatoes are supposed to be white, you know?”   
  
She nods while flipping the slices, because giving them brown potatoes is a little shifty. “And then it had gravy like flooding it, like it was dripping onto some kids milk. And Joey, you remember the one who moved here from Cincinnati?” She nods again, even though she has no idea who Joey is and starts playing that ridiculous song from Glee back in her head. “Well, he found a black piece of turkey in his! I didn’t even eat mine because Michelle gave me half her PB&J sandwich.” She stops mixing again and looks at her, “I’m going to go wake up Noah. Can you put this on?” She hands Quinn the bowl and scurries off in a flash. After a few seconds, Quinn can hear her feet pounding on the stairs.   
  
She pulls the bacon off the frying pan with her fork piece by piece, putting it on a plate in between two paper towels to soak up the grease. Then she puts the leftover from the pan in an empty tomato sauce jar just like her sister used to, filling the pan with water and retrieving a clean one for the pancakes.   
  
Suddenly she feels breath on her neck, and turns to see Puck standing there, rubbing his eyes. “Morning,” He yawns right in her face, but at least he’s brushed his teeth. “Happy Mother’s Day,” His hand hovers over her stomach for a minute, but she turns back to the stove before he can touch it. That is a right exclusively owned by Ella and Brittany, only because she can’t bring herself to say something mean enough to stop them.   
  
“Thank you,” She says softly, staring into the pancake batter. “Where’s Ella?” There’s too much, but she can always freeze any leftovers and serve them before school. Nice and quick and easy, turns out being Martha Stuart isn't so hard after all.   
  
He runs his hand over his newly shaved head and sighs, “She’s taking Mom’s present out of hiding.” She nods, and makes Mickey Mouse ears with the batter. He watches over her shoulder. They stand there, watching it cook until Ella comes back.   
  
“I think she’s waking up,” Ella jumps a little, and Quinn debates mentally on whether she let her eat too many of those chocolate chips while she was cooking. “I heard moving.”   
  
“Which means, you were so loud trying to sneak past her room, you woke her up,” Puck drawls, staring at his sister. “Nice job, moron.”   
  
“Shut up,” She scowls, turning to the blond in front of the stove. “Quinn, tell Noah to shut up.” Ella has figured out that her brother doesn’t listen to her or her mom, but he does listen to Quinn for some reason. It’s mystifying, but she just gives all her commands through her now.   
  
“Puck,” She turns to him, strictly. “Be nice to your sister or you can come volunteer at the church dinner with me tonight instead of playing Super Mario Galaxy 2.”   
  
“You didn’t tell me you were volunteering today,” He says quietly, looking at the floor. Oh, that’s right, she was avoiding telling him because she knew he’d get all moody about the fact that she wouldn’t be around to cook.   
  
She nods, “I wrote it on the calendar,” which she knows he never checks. “Did you at least read the part about my doctor’s appointment on the 19th?” He shakes his head, “Well, make sure you don’t have football practice because I have an ultrasound.”   
  
“Why do we need to look at the baby so much if we’re not even keeping her?” She wants to slap him, but instead she swallows.   
  
“Just make sure, okay?” She flips a pancake.   
  
“Okay.” She hears from behind her. Ella is staring at them, suspiciously quiet.   
  
It takes a few minutes, but Quinn finds out why, “You guys aren’t keeping the baby?” Her brown eyes bore up at them, her lip quivering. “I thought we were going to be a family…” Quinn promised herself she wouldn’t cry, so she doesn’t think she can answer that question.   
  
Fortunately Puck’s mother chooses that moment to enter the room. “Something smells like…” Her eyes widen, and she glares at the plate on the counter, “Who made bacon?”   
  
Puck and Ella look at her accusingly, the traitors. “Quinn did,” Puck says, and she figures this is his way of getting back at her for volunteering today.   
  
However, Amy Puckerman’s face immediately softens. “Oh sweetie, I didn’t realize. We don’t eat that, it’s not kosher.” Quinn looks at the plate of bacon longingly, and repeats the mantra in her head. _I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry over a plate of bacon_.   
  
\- - -   
  
It’s nine when Quinn gets back from the church dinner. You think they would give her a break for being pregnant, but it wasn’t enough to make her cook, they had to put her in charge of childcare too. “For practice,” The woman in charge had said condescendingly.   
  
She sat down on the couch and put her face in her hands. She was going to make it through this day, she was. Only three hours left. “Hey,” a voice calls to her in the dark.   
  
“Hi,” She mutters, seeing Puck standing in the archway to the kitchen. “How’d dinner go?” She’d left them frozen lasagna, figuring Puck would burn anything he attempted to cook.   
  
“Good,” He smiles, sitting down next to her. “Thank god you didn’t put any sausage in there.”   
  
She glares at him, “Oh shut up.” He laughs, and his hand finds her stomach in the dark. “Puck-” She starts to reprimand him.   
  
“Sssh,” He whispers, rubbing her stomach gently. “Just for a few minutes.” Turns out she’s too exhausted to stop him.   
  
“Just until my feet work well enough to get upstairs,” She mumbles, letting her head rest against the back of the couch. “Emily is driving me insane, like I have been punished enough for being pregnant.”   
  
“She’s just jealous because she wishes someone would want her enough for her to knock her up,” He offers. It makes no sense, because Emily is married, but she lets this one go.   
  
“I need to go upstairs,” She tries to move her feet, but it doesn’t work. She turns her head so she’s looking at him, and tries her best puppy dog eyes. “Carry me?” She asks.   
  
He smiles slightly, nodding, “Come here.” She nuzzles into his neck, but just because he’s going to pick her up, after all. He slips his arm under her knees and she laces hers arms around his neck. He walks slowly up the stairs, so she doesn’t get jilted, before laying her softly on her bed.   
  
She snuggles against her pillow. It still smells like her old room, in her real house. She can almost see the daisies on her bedside table. “Quinn,” She hears a whisper in her ear.   
  
“No, I’m too tired.” This is the same thing she tells him every night, but he never stops asking.   
  
“Not that,” He mumbles, before catching himself, “If you want to though, I’m-”   
  
She sighs, turning towards him, “What is it, Noah?” Oops, it slips out lately. She’s been spending too much time with Ella, who says it constantly.   
  
He pulls something out of his pocket, and folds her hand around it, “I cleaned a couple pools last weekend while you were teaching CCD.” She raises an eyebrow at him, “I promise it’s worth more than 18 dollars, or nun chucks.”   
  
She lies there a minute, trying to guess by the feel beneath her fingers. It’s jewelry of some kind, but it’s in a box, so she has to open it. Green velvet parts to reveal a shining silver chain. A miniature cross, emblazoned with the word Quinn, is attached to it. She smiles at it.   
  
“I figured you’d like it better than those cheesy heart pendants and lockets, that’s what Ella thought I should get you.” She laughs, and he grins. “You like it?”   
  
“It’s beautiful,” She whispers, then looks up at him. “Thank you, Puck.”   
  
He shrugs, “Hey, its Mother’s Day,” He stands up and walks toward the door. “Good night, Quinn.” He flicks her light switch.   
  
She sits there running it between her fingers for what feels like a lifetime. At 10:59, she cries.


End file.
